The Last Guard
by OnyxGuardWolf
Summary: The Locust war has ended and humanity prevailed. But, can a society that has only known war ever truly find peace? Specialist Erik Wells had battled the monsters from below, now he must battle the monsters inside...
1. Chapter 1

They thought we were all dead. Truthfully, if it wasn't for me, they'd be right. Fuck them, I don't die so easy.

That ain't saying that six months as one of the last humans alive on this fucking island was a treat. A real pretty shit hole is all it is to me.

Fenix knew I was still here, I did my best to help the guy. After all, he was the last hope we had against these fucking grubs.

When the cavalry arrived... Man, what sight for sore eyes. Was the first time in over three weeks I left my hideout. Talk about a renewed sense of purpose. Fought like the beast I knew I was. And then, that machine blew and it was all over. Fenix did it, the old bastard actually did it!

I can't really begin to describe how I felt when I finally knew it was all over. At first, it was a complete clusterfuck, Gears coming in from everywhere to help the cleanup of Azura, trying to get power back on and some sense of normalcy going.

Then, there was trying to restore order to the COG. You know, since fucking Prescott dipped out on all of us. What a fucking pussy! And people wonder why I hate politicians!

Of course, in the meantime, Ol' Hoffman had a million questions for me. What happened when the Locust first attacked? Was Fenix able to tell me anything about what we were supposed to do after his machine went off? How did I manage to survive so long alone? Look at me, though. I put that Clay Carmine to shame! I'm not trying to sound like an arrogant prick, but I didn't get where I am by being a complete toad. Of course, I can and do regularly lift heavy things. HA! As far as what we were supposed to do after Fenix saved the world? Fuck if I knew, live?

Oh, fuck... I guess I probably should introduce myself at some point. Specialist Erik Wells, the last of the elite Onyx Guard. Yep, that's me. A real god damned trooper.

I am not entirely sure why I feel the need to write all of this shit, I guess it's just part of my own healing process. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. What the hell does a big tough Gear need to heal? Well, that's the thing. Before this whole mess started... before E-day... we all had lives, ya know? We all had family, loved ones, friends, fuck even pets. If you ask me, even though we finally won this war... we all lost anyways.

Man... usually I don't think about some of this shit when I'm awake. Usually it's just the shit in my nightmares. Which are pretty much every night. I guess... I guess when I think about it though, everyone else is right there with me. We are going to be one fucked up group of people, that's for fucking sure!

I was still a regular Gear on E-day. I remember fighting in the streets of Ephrya... I saw this grub... he spotted this poor woman holding her kid. I couldn't get a shot from where I was, too much shit going on. I will always regret that.

He ran up to this woman who was absolutely petrified in fear. Grabbed this woman's boy, who couldn't have been more than an infant, right out of her arms and crushed him between his hands as if the kid was nothing more than a discarded can. Then, this fucking animal, ripped off the woman's own arm and beat her to death with it.

That was the moment for me. That was when every emotion I had ever known, died, right along with my soul. As soon as I had a clear, I sought out that ugly bastard, and I beat him to death with my bare fists. That fucking shitbag deserved so much worse for what he did, but at that moment, I wasn't thinking with anything other than my fists.

These memories, the things we have seen, this is the shit that we will never get out of our minds. No matter how much writing, or talking, or crying we do. And believe me, there is a lot of crying going on. Some guys, they can hold it in until lights out, and you can hear them at night silently sobbing away. The ones who aren't quite as strong... Yeah, those are the dudes you see just sit down on the side of the road, or in a hallway somewhere, and break down for a half hour. I feel bad for them, ya know? But what the fuck can I do?

Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of times I want to cry, or just put my fist through something. But, I workout instead. Or, just pour myself so completely into whatever mindless fuckall task I am assigned that day, that I completely drown out any other thoughts. Yeah I know, probably not the best way of dealing with shit, but hey... I am writing this fucking journal right? Cut me a fucking break!

PTSD is what the one doc calls it.

Me? Well, I just call it the last seventeen years of our lives finally catching up to us. The grubs were so fucking relentless and headstrong, the vast majority of us never really had time to process what was happening, to see how bad things really were, or to really see the reality of how much and how many we lost.

I lost my whole fucking family. My dad was already sick, had rustlung from working in the Imulsion fields. But he made a good living and took care of us. My mom? My sister? I don't even know when they died. I know it's fucked up, but the saying is _"The lucky ones died on E-Day"_ , and I really hope they did.

My friends... all dead. All my old squad mates? Dead. The entire god damned Onyx Guard? All. Fucking. Dead.

The only silver lining to all of this is, there is one person who made it through this alive. The person that I fell in love with nineteen years ago. Back before E-Day, when shit was still normal. I mean, we were just teenagers, but still.

I'm... fuck I don't know what I am. Having a hard time believing they are still alive? Yeah, that is one way of putting it. Not only that, but they were part of the final push that ended this whole nightmare we called a war! A motherfucking hero!

But shit, nineteen years is a long time. Fuck!


	2. Chapter 2

This week has been pretty much shit from start to finish. Whoever said it doesn't get hot in Bounty needs throat punched!

Very first thing I woke up to? One of my bunk mates, Josh Vasko, had hung himself in the night. That is always a great way to start the day off. Not surprisingly enough, it seems to be happening more and more. I guess the reality of shit really is starting to sink in.

So, me and this other dude, Beckwith... he's a decent guy... We cut Vasko down, called in the medics, not that there was shit they could do, but they were who we were supposed to call when this shit happened, and went about our morning. Yeah, maybe that sounded a bit cold, but there really isn't anything else we can do. Plus, we've been surrounded by so much death and pain, it's like we've all just gone numb to this shit. I really have no idea yet if that is good, or bad. Time will tell I suppose.

Yep, week was off to a great start. Vasko offed himself, then the hot water they just fixed six days ago was broke again. Holy shit, see.. this is the shit I catch myself thinking and just want to punch myself in the face. I am bitching about hot water, and there are stranded out there who've been eating... I don't know... fucking tree bark for the last week. Hell, if they've eaten at all! But what the fuck am I supposed to think? I mean we've been fighting for the last seventeen years to get our lives back. And isn't hot water part of the life we lost? Fuck...

The rest of the day wasn't too bad. I was assigned to help work on repairing the Maelstrom Generator. I don't know shit about fixing stuff like that. But you know, the whole _"hey this big asshole can lift heavy things."_ thing. Whatever, for once I slept like a baby that night. No nightmares, no waking up every hour on the hour. It was really nice for a change.

Next day, same shit. Well, minus waking up to one of my bunk mates dead. The day itself really wasn't too bad. And hey, shit didn't hit the fan until after dinner. A whole bunch of us were hanging out in the hotel courtyard, and I overheard some dickbag make a snide comment about some gear who got swallowed alive by the riftworm. I knew exactly who he was talking about. That's how Clay Carmines brother died. I've fought alongside Carmine a few times. He is a good dude. Like me in a lot of ways, both physically and mentally. The guy cared very deeply for his brothers, and wasn't here to defend their honor.

So, me being me, I sauntered up to the dude and cold cocked him. Of course, this started a fight. One Onyx Guard against five Gears. Now, not to inflate my own ego, or to say I walked away unscathed... trust me, I got hammered pretty damn good... But, I really helped cement home that whole Onyx Guard legend of being the baddest motherfuckers out there. My fallen brethren would have been damn proud. Fuck I miss some of those guys!

Of course, Sergeant Whateverthefuckhisnamewas, wasn't too happy when he was finally able to break up our fight. Then again, once he saw who I was, there really wasn't much he could do, since I am on a playing field all by myself. Fuck him, and fuck the asshole who has the balls to joke about a fallen soldier, bitch better pray I never meet him alone in a dark alley.

And yes, the rest of the week really was as fucked up as the start.

I caught Marcus Fenix staring at me at lunch one day, like he knew something I didn't. No idea what that was all about. Of course, considering everything the guy has been through... fuck he could have been staring through me, the wall, and halfway across Sera at Mount Kadar for all I know. That is one dude that I truly feel bad for in the sincerest way possible. Knowing what I know now, knowing the full story of what happened to him and his squad, and what they went through to save us. If anyone deserves to be called a hero, it's him.

About the only upside of the week to that point was, Beckwith and I found a deck of cards. Yeah, I know... how fucking exciting. But you wouldn't believe how much little shit like that means right now. We played Bullshit with a couple other guys from one of his old squads, and honestly, it really made me forget everything and just be a human for a minute.

It was really kinda nice. But, like every other good thing in life, was short lived. About an hour later, just after lights out, gunfire rang out down the hall from our room.

Another night, another Gear who couldn't deal with it anymore. I don't think any of us really went back to sleep that night. This shit really is happening a lot, and it scares me. Can't really say that any other way. I am worried that the powers that be are going to declare martial law. HA! Martial law for a bunch of soldiers? Yeah, that'll go over like a porcupine in a nudist colony. But, that is what it is going to come if shit doesn't start to change around here, and quick.

There really isn't anyone else on this fucking island but us Gears. There are a few civilians that have been brought in, mostly because they are some of the few left who know how to fix shit, or grow things, or are in one way or another valuable members of the COG. But yeah, martial law is really all we need at this point. With the way shit is going, I am pretty sure that would just throw this whole place into _"fuck everything"_ mode. And that? Not exactly something I would be looking forward to.

I can't wait to get out this shithole.

So, that was how the week pretty much went. One fucked up thing after another. But we managed to get through the last five days of the week without anyone else committing suicide. And right when I thought that maybe, just maybe I could start my weekend without me putting my fist through a wall...

Hoffman happened.

Fucking Hoffman. What. A. Douchebag. He sends this rook after me today, kid couldn't have been more than eighteen. One of the few kids around I suppose. Anyways, kid comes running up to me, saying Hoffman needed to see me like yesterday. Never mind the fact that I was bracing an APC tire with my back while two other guys were trying like hell to bolt the fucking thing back on with some makeshift wrenches. Because, you know... It's not like we actually have enough tools for everyone.

So, this kid and I head off to Hoffman's office, and dude wouldn't shut up the entire walk there. I guess being the last of the Onyx Guard, I've become somewhat of a legend. You know, with my black armor and all. Forget the fact that my armor sleeves are gone... because it's fucking hot. And who the fuck knows where my helmet went. Lost that bastard a while ago. I am a pretty intimidating looking guy though, and then the whole beating the shit out of five guys earlier in the week thing, so I guess I can see where the stories are coming from. Don't fight the feeling, right?

Anyways, did I mention that I really don't like General Hoffman?

The guy is kind of a dick. He means well, so I really can't give him too much shit. The poor old bastard is basically trying to rebuild civilization from what? An island, and five or six outposts, all while trying to fight a bunch of pissed off stranded and help them at the same time? Yeah, not a job I'd want. Still doesn't mean I have to like him.

Anyway, at the urging of his new buddy Commander Trescu, dude wants to restart the Onyx Guard. Thinks it will be a much needed asset once we start the heavy push of trying to reintegrate the stranded into society, as well as keep minds and hands busy. And guess who gets to train all these lucky men and women? Yep, this guy!

I am fucking thrilled.

So, Hoffman is going on and on about how much he has heard about the Onyx Guard training, and how we are the best of the best, and a whole bunch of other shit I really wasn't paying much attention to. Because honestly, the whole time he was talking I was staring at the wall behind him trying really hard not to let loose the massive fart I was holding in.

Plus, there were people constantly coming and going from his office, digging through papers, looking over maps, shit like that. It was really pretty fucking annoying. I can see why he always seems like he has a stick up his ass. Grubs are all dead, still dealing with a shitstorm. Would pretty much ruin anyone's mood. Of course, when he was finally done, being the good soldier that I am, I agreed with a stern, and professional _"Yes Sir"._ Even if I really wasn't looking forwardto this new assignment, that I assume would be my life from now on. Though, on the upside, I am able to hand pick the first Gears I will be training, who will in turn help me train the rest.

We salute, shake hands, and just as I turned to leave his office, thinking I can finally put this god damned week behind me, what happens? I run face first into Corporal Damon S. Baird.

Damon Fucking Baird... Well, that cat is out of the bag.

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 **Authors Note. So, I wrote these first two chapters a while ago, but never posted them, or even bothered to join FF until now. I guess I just found my inspiration? Who the fuck knows. Anyways, I am sorry if things seem to be going slowly, trust me the story will get better. On top of that, I want to apologize if my grammar and punctuation isn't the best. And as far as the writing style goes, I am trying to write the story as if I was writing to myself in an actual journal. Anyways, if you like it cool, plenty more to come. If not, umm... sorry?**


	3. Chapter 3

Well, that was awkward. Of all the people to run face first into. Well, actually I damn near plowed the poor guy over. But, Damon Baird. I am honestly surprised I even recognized him. I mean it's been damn near seventeen years since I've seen him. But, he recognized me all right. The look on his face was... Well, fuck I don't know what it was. Probably the same as mine, honestly. But the awkward stare, the quick, but quiet _"Erik!"_ , pretty much said it all. Of course, quick thinking, a polite and professional _"My apologies Corporal Baird."_ , and a sidestep around him, and thankfully it was all over. Because god dammit, I was feeling a headache coming on. That, and I still had to fart.

I gotta tell ya, it's pretty amazing how even fully grown male soldiers move out of the way for a heavily tattooed, six foot four inch, two hundred forty pound guy walking with a fucking purpose. The only thing on my mind at that moment was, get the fuck back to my room and process what in the shit just happened. If I ran over someone in the process, well... tough.

I feel sort of bad for Beckwith. The guy means well, and he's fast becoming a good friend, but he isn't very big. Don't get me wrong, dude could definitely hold his own in a fight, and most certainly did on the battlefields. But, I have this death stare thing I do sometimes. I think all he did was ask if I was hungry, I honestly don't remember. I just remember him putting his hands up in a defensive position, muttering something like _"Sorry, man."_ , and out the door he went. I got what I needed though, time alone... in my own head. Scary fucking place in there.

I remember the first time I ever saw that arrogant asshole.

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 **Mess hall, Kosoly Barracks, Tyrus.**

 **36 days After Emergence.**

"Hey, who's the blond kid over at that other table?" I asked the guy sitting next to me, pointing to Baird.

"You mean the arrogant prick who's gunna get his ass beat?" the guy said.

"Yeah, whatever man. Just wondering who he is." I shot back.

"That's Damon Baird. Rich little fuck who's daddy thinks he can hand down sentences against good men." the guy said.

"Damon Baird, huh. He sure likes to talk." I snorted back.

"Yeah well, he ain't gunna be runnin that mouth of his much longer." dude said.

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Never did catch that guys name. Not that it matters, pretty sure he's long dead anyhow.

It's funny how shit works out though, a few days later I got my orders, and made my way out to the airfield to hitch my ride. And who was standing out there off to the side, all alone? You guessed it, Damon Baird. I'm pretty sure at this point, he actually was trying to get his ass beat, but what the fuck did I know. He was swinging his helmet around by it's strap, and just generally being a dick. I remember thinking to myself, _"Man, Sergeant Iredell's going to take that helmet and shove it right up your ass!"_ And while Iredell unfortunately didn't, he did order the cocky fuck to put it on. Of course, that only lasted all of about five minutes. As soon as Sarge was gone, off it came, and on went those damn goggles of his.

Then there was Cole and his big mouth, kept calling over to Baird asking him if he was going to join us. I think Cole really felt bad for the guy. In a way, I did too. Never seen anyone so out of place. Anyways, Baird reluctantly walked over to us, and of all people, that fucker looked me right in the eye and said _"Well, looks like I just doubled the IQ of this squad."_ What a dick! Though, I just smiled at him.

Holy shit. Longest. Flight. Ever. Seriously! If anyone had ever told me, prior to that day, that the great Cole Train got airsick, I'd have probably laughed in their face. Nope, spent three hours in that KR on the way to Kinnerlake, and that big bastard puked the whole god damn way! I had never been so happy to land, even if it meant an entire fun filled day of being shot at by grubs.

I have no idea where they ended up after we landed. Cole ran off, and Baird just tagged along. Me, some big ass South Islander, and my buddy Dish, flanked around behind our KR since the fucking grubs were heading straight for us. I knew Cole and Baird were somewhere to our left as we were making our way towards a mall, but in that clusterfuck, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pretty much just covering my own ass.

I was impressed, we didn't loose a single man that day.

Ever since the war started, I've had trouble sleeping. Well, honestly I think everyone did. But when you're fuckall tired, your body will put you to sleep. Me on the other hand? I don't know. I think my body is just weird.

It was our third night holding down Kinnerlake. We had set up a base camp inside the mall. Hey, don't judge... Plenty of cover and supplies, and it's not like there was much to shop for. Anyways, I couldn't sleep, so I had found myself sitting alone on a bench, just staring at nothing. Next thing I know, Damon Baird plops his ass down right next to me.

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 **Kinnerlake Mall, Kinnerlake, Tyrus.**

 **41 days After Emergence.**

"You don't talk much. Holy shit, you're not like, mute are you?" he asked.

"No, shithead, I just have this whole no filter thing on my mouth, and find it easier to keep my shit shut than piss off everyone around me." I didn't even look at him when I said that, but I could feel his smirk.

"Yeah, I know the feeling." he replied.

There was a good few minutes neither of us actually said anything. We both just stared off at the wall on the other side of the food court.

"You really don't want to be here, do you?" I asked him, finally looking at him.

"No, I really don't." this time it was his turn not to look.

"Well, I hate to break it to ya bubba, but unless you plan on getting dead in the next day or so, I think we are here for the long haul. No one in charge has a fucking clue who, or what these things are we are fighting, and I don't trust a fucking word they say anyhow. So, we better get used to this." I said flatly.

"You know, you're not as dumb as you look. I think I like you!" he said with a shit eating grin.

"Erik Wells." I said, sticking out my paw.

"Damon Baird." and the cocky bastard actually shook my hand!

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I made a friend that day.

Of course, no shitty week would be complete without just one more thing, right?

I was actually beginning to enjoy my short trip down memory lane, when Beckwith came bursting through the door. _"Hey, grab your gear man. We need you down on the other side of the courtyard."_ I should have known from the panic in his eyes, and the fact that he was grabbing his chest plates and Lancer, this was going to be ugly. HA! How little I knew.


	4. Chapter 4

**Azura Hotel, Azura Island.**

 **Present Day.**

"So, what the fuck is going on?" I asked Beckwith, as I strapped my black chest plates on.

"I have no idea, man. I was in the mess, grabbin' some food, next thing I know there's a whole bunch of yelling outside, shots fired, everyone hit the deck." his voice was calm, but I knew the subtle hint of panic when I heard it.

Heaving a sigh, I pulled on my gloves, and picked up my lancer. Maybe it was the way this week went, maybe something else, but it felt good to be holding the old gal again. The weight, smell, everything about her just felt right to me. There is a certain sense of pride that a soldier takes in their gun, not that I would expect anyone else to really understand that. But, when you've been through seventeen straight years of war, and raked in as many kills as I have, you've earned the right to brag about your gun. _"You've got me through a lot, that's for sure!"_ I thought to myself.

"Alright, let's go." I said, brushing past him and out the door.

We had only made it about 20 yards down the hall, when the great Gorasni, Commander Trescu, came around a corner heading straight for us. Only ever met the guy one other time, and believe me, he was all business. I respected that.

"Specialist Wills?" he asked, looking at me.

"Yes, Sir!" I replied, as he turned to walk with us.

"Good, here is the situation..." he began. "Two Gears have taken five hostages and barricaded themselves in a small room on the far side of the courtyard. I was just made aware of the situation, so I am afraid I can not tell you much more. Sergeant Fenix is down there now, see him. Once I have more information, I will contact you." Yep, all business. He stopped and placed his hand on my shoulder. "This is a delicate situation, Wills!" I could tell by his tone that he was actually somewhat shaken up.

"Yes, Sir!" I said, flatly. " _Fuck, well I can't say I didn't see this coming."_

By the time Beckwith and I had made our way down to the east corridor, across the courtyard from where the situation was, you could have cut the tension in the air with a knife. And quiet... fuck you could have heard a pin drop. Situations like this have a tenancy to go one of two ways. The first, everyone goes home, or to prison, at the end of the day... but they do it alive. The second... Those are the ones that turn into blood baths. I was in absolutely no mood for the second, but I really had this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. _"Yep, someone is going to die today."_

"Where's Sergeant Fenix?" I asked aloud. _"Well, that woke everyone out of their stupor."_

"Up here!" I saw an arm waive. The crowd of fellow soldiers that had gathered, made way for me to pass.

"You Wills?"

"Yeah." I said looking at Marcus, _"Damn, I expected you to be taller."_

"Good, there is a small room just off the corridor on the opposite side of the courtyard." He said. Pointing to a small and long rectangular window, he went on. "There is a window high up in the room, and there is a sniper stationed directly above us, but the targets are standing against the near wall, and he can't get a clear view of them."

" _Great, so basically you want me to waive some magic wand and make this go away, right?"_ "What do you need me to do, Fenix?" I asked.

"Well, you're the one with all the fancy commando training. The plan is to have you repel off the far roof down to them, the rest is up to you. This is your op now, Gear." as he said that, his Tac-Com went off. "Yeah... Okay... I'll patch him in." Marcus looked at me, "Trescu, wants to talk to you."

"Specialist Wills, Sir." placing my finger to my ear.

"Trescu here. Wills, the five hostages in that room are Gorasni civilians. There is a negotiator talking with the two Gears, but please, if anything goes wrong, handle this situation with the utmost care." It was clear now why he sounded worried. The Gorasni were almost extinct as a culture, and one thing Trescu was known for, was protecting his people.

"Copy that, Commander."

"Alright, Fenix." I said, turning back to Marcus. "Go see if you can find me some rope, or cable, or... something. Then meet me up on the roof."

"Beckwith?" I said, turning around... He was right there.

"Yeah?"

"Come on, you're with me." I grumbled, as we pushed our way back through the crowd towards the stairs.

" _Well, Erik. Time to put on your game face. This is the shit you live for, remember?"_

"Hey, Erik?"

"What's up, man?"

"This kinda shit's going to start happening a lot, isn't it?" I stopped and turned to look at my buddy. There was a look of, what I can only describe as concerned confusion in his eyes. "I guess, man." rubbing the back of my neck. "I really don't know." _"If I told you half the shit I am afraid of hitting the fan, you'd be running for the hills, bubba!"._

By the time we reached the rooftop, it was pretty clear that at least half the Gears stationed in the hotel part of the island were gathered within sight of the courtyard. These are the ops that fuck with a person. Out in the open, an audience... I have always preferred to work alone, and in the shadows. Not hanging off the side of a building with half the god damned military watching my every move. But, I suppose I really don't have much choice in the matter at this point. I spotted the sniper across the way from me, and did my best to signal my intentions to him. _"Hopefully that stupid fuck figures out what I'm trying to do over here."_ Now, to just wait for Marcus, and hope the negotiator can work his magic.

" _The view up here is really nice, I can see why they picked this place for a hotel."_

"You ever repelled?" I asked, looking over at Beckwith.

"No... No, man. Never." I think it was disturbing him a little bit how calm I was. That or the poor guy was afraid to heights. But this is what we were trained for, calm in tense situations, thinking quick on our feet, always being fully aware of everything going on around us. We were the truly elite soldiers of the COG, and I think Beckwith was finally beginning to grasp just how fucked up that made a guy.

"Here, hold on to this for me, and hand me your Boltok." I said, handing him my Onyx lancer. _"Please don't fuck it up. There have only been two other people that have ever held my gun. And don't look at me like I'm nuts, dude. Believe it or not, I have been here before. Well, not here, but in this situation. And a pair of Boltoks when you're hanging upside down actually works rather well."_

Marcus finally arrived with my rope. After helping me secure it to a nearby stone column, it was go time, and quite ceremoniously, over the side I went. Seven stories down, but for someone who's done this more times than they can count, it was only a few seconds before I was in position. I secured my rope so that I was able to use both my hands freely, made a deliberately slow turn, and then leaned down so that I could assess my targets directly through the window Marcus had pointed out to me earlier. With their focus was clearly on the door, I took stock of the situation. _"Two Gears, five hostages. One with helmet, one without. Both have Gnashers, but don't appear to be acting crazy. Oh, and everyone is watching you, so don't fuck up."_

I keyed up my tac-com "Commander Trescu, I am in position." I whispered. _"And, as an added bonus, now that I am here, my nuts are itchy."_ Awaiting my orders, I readied my pair of Boltoks, and took aim at the arms they were each holding their weapons with.

"Wells, this is Hoffman." his voice way too calm for even my level of comfort.

"Yes, sir?"

"Wells, we need you to take the shot. We need you to end this." _"To say I didn't see this coming is pointless. I did. I had tried to ignore it as it nagged at the back of my mind. But, like I said, I have been here before. This is what we did, what the Onyx Guard was built for. The COG's wetwork. But, fuck it, secure channel, no one else can hear him but me, better double check."_

"Confirm, negotiation failed, shoot to kill, sir?"

" _And... right on cue."_ "There was no negotiator, shoot to kill." calm and collected as ever. It has always amazed me that, when ordering a soldier to kill a brother in arms, how those in charge could do so with such tranquility in their voices.

"Understood, sir." And within the span of less than a second, the lives of two Gears ended. _"And that brings my kill count to seventy-nine. You ask me how many fucking grubs I've killed since the start of the war? I don't fucking know. Thousands? Too many to count? But I remember every single human life I've been ordered to take."_ I watched as the bodies of two men, two fellow Gears dropped to the floor. _"Seventy-Nine. And I am the only one who knows that number, I am the only one who knows exactly who I've killed."_ There is always a dead silence after this. I don't know if it's in my head, or real, but the silence is always there. _"Why? Because no one else will do it. We were trained for this, this is what being an Onyx is. Does anyone really think, even if an entire mountain of evidence was presented to him showing her a traitor, that Marcus Fenix would kill his girlfriend, Anya? Fuck... NO!"_

"Targets neutralized." and it was over.

Now, to anyone within hearing distance, it was one shot. But, I knew differently. I knew my body, I knew how it reacted. There is very slight millisecond hesitation in my left hand, not even noticeable to the naked eye, but I notice it. Definitely two shots. The gear on my left, the one wearing the helmet, I shot him just above where his right ear would be. _"And that... is exactly why I really don't give a rats ass where fuck my helmet went. Useless piece of shit."_ The other Gear, he was facing away from me. I shot him through the back of the neck, just above his where his spinal chord ends. Death would have been instantaneous for both, that is one thing I made damn sure of. If I was required to take the life of a fellow human, it was the very least I could do. The grubs caused enough pain and suffering, there was no need to add to that. Even if my orders were to _"Make them suffer!"_ I always made sure death was instant. The hostages, once they realized they were the ones alive, rushed out the door, and into safety. I holstered my Boltok, slipped the other back into my boot, and loosened the rope to finish my descent to the ground. _"Another job well done, shitbag."_

Gears were rushing in from every direction, presumably to check on the condition of the hostages. My job wasn't quite done however. I still needed to enter the room and clear it. Not that I needed to, I plastered the walls with their heads, but it was part of the job, the part I hated the most. _"Sorry guys. But, this is what I do. I am the guy they call when they need someone to do their dirty work. And yeah, it really does fucking suck."_

When I walked out of that room, there were Gears congratulating me on a job well done, thanking me for saving the lives of innocents, telling me they were glad the traitors were dead. _"Yeah... Yeah... Thanks, I hope you fuckwads know, if any of you decide to loose your shit, you're the next person they will send me after."_

Hoffman and Trescu both were there as well, to shake my hand, congratulate me for saving the hostages, and deem me the COG hero of the day! _"Man I love being a propaganda tool. I need fucking alcohol."_

There is no debriefing after an operation like this, there usually never is. Just the knowing look between the eyes of a killer, and the person who ordered the kill. Like I said, I have been here before, just as they have. It still doesn't make this kind of work any easier.

It was about seven hours later, long after lights out, I once again found myself unable to sleep. Not really in the mood to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, I had considered making an entry in my journal, but I figured a walk would do me better. No one, other than those assigned to a patrol, was out at this time of night anyways. Perfect for clearing my head.

Wandering around the hotel grounds, it wasn't long before I found myself in the same courtyard that I had murdered two Gears in just a few hours ago. I stood for a few minutes, near the fountain, just staring at the room they had barricaded themselves in earlier. _"This is one fucked up world."_ Shaking it off, I made my way up the stairs, and found a bench under the pavilion that overlooked the ocean. I had to admit, it really was beautiful here. If I were more of a romantic, I could actually get used to this place. But this fucking island, this hotel, I couldn't wait to get out of here.

I was thoroughly lost in my own mind, just staring out at the ocean so far below, when just like seventeen years ago... out of absolutely nowhere, Damon Baird plops his ass down on the bench, right next to me.

Neither of us said anything for a few moments. Both of us, just staring out at the ocean. Like neither knew what to say. He knew what I had done today, hell I had the feeling he knew a lot of shit that I had done over the years. If anyone knew exactly how deadly of a warrior I could be, It was Damon Baird. But he also knew what it did to me inside. He had been there, not as up close and personal as I am, but he had been there. I wondered now, sitting here, if that scared him.

Then softly, almost inaudibly, he asked...

"You really don't want to be here, do you?"

" _Damon Motherfucking Baird."_


	5. Chapter 5

Man, what a fucking end to a fucking week! Hell, I don't even know where to start. I killed two dudes? Got laid? Shit... you talk about clusterfuck! I don't think I have had a week like this since Jacinto sank, and trust me, THAT was a fucked up week!

So, yeah... Damon Baird. Seventeen years since I last saw him... originally met nineteen years ago... always the cocky arrogant prick. Yep, that Damon Baird! Sat down on my bench last night, and we went for one hell of a drive down memory lane.

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 **Kinnerlake, Tyrus.**

 **56 days After Emergence**

After our little talk on the bench that night about a week ago, it was clear to me that Baird had latched on to me just as he did Cole. I still have no idea if he remembers who I am, or that night two years ago. Hell, _I_ almost didn't recognize him the first time I saw him. But, that didn't matter at this point. If he wasn't fighting alongside the defensive lineman, he was at my side kicking ass just the same. One wouldn't think he could hold his own, the way he acted initially. But, he was proving himself to be one hell of a soldier. Of course, back then, green as we all were, we were all hot shit. And then, there was his always colorful commentary of any given situation.

"Ah, shit flyin everywhere! Ya see that? Ha!" I heard from my right. Looking over, there was Baird, tell tale shit eating grin, and pieces of what I assume were once Locust drone, plastered against the wall behind him. I just had to laugh...

Of course, that was short lived as another grub hole opened up off to our left.

"Grub hole!" I yelled, and right back into the frying pan we went.

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It's not like there's a whole hell of a lot of time for socializing during a war. At least not a war like this. So, when things are calm, you take the time given to you and use it to its fullest. And believe me, Baird and I were taking that time. The realization of where things were going really didn't occur until we were on watch together that night. If I said it wasn't awkward, I'd be lying. But does anyone really have their shit together at that age?

Believe it or not, we had a lot in common. We are both pretty damn intelligent, though I play stupid on TV really well. Hated our childhoods, for different reasons of course. Both complete wise asses. And... well... of course there was the whole gay thing. Yep, he remembered alright! He just wasn't sure if I did or not.

Yeah... we fucked like rabbits from that night on. Trust me, any chance I had to be balls deep in that ass... I took it!

Stress relief, ya know?

Man, I sound like a real pig. Maybe I should back up a bit, because it wasn't just about sex. Holy shit does that sound cliché. Seriously, it wasn't though. But yeah, we did fuck a lot.

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 **Kinnerlake, Tyrus.**

 **Night Patrol.**

"So, do you think we've finally cleared them all.?" I asked. We had walked this street seven times over the last day, and not seen a single grub or new grub hole.

"I have a theory about about." he grabbed my arm and stopped me. "They seem to be popping up right in the middle of major cities and towns, clearing them, and then moving out from there. It scares me, actually. Like this is just a first wave, ya know?" I could see the wheels turning in his head. And, as much as it bothered me, I knew he was right. There was no way this was going to be it.

"They aren't telling us everything." I said. "These things have been down there, right below our fucking feet for... what... ever? And we never knew they were there? That's horse shit! They had to know, there is no way they didn't! How do you not know about some bigass spider thing crawling around underground?" I was getting frustrated. There was so much death and destruction around us. This shit was real. I mean, I saw the hammer strikes. I had just graduated high school... saw them on the news, the Pendulum Wars were finally over! But that was a world away. The UIR might as well have been the moon to me. But this? This shit was here, this was under our feet, and the people dying were our friends and family.

"I don't know if I can do this, dude." I said quietly.

He just looked at me. I don't really think he expected that from someone like me. I'm a pretty intimidating guy. Six foot four, two-forty, hell my arms are bigger than most dudes thighs. But right now... right now I just feel so small, so... lost. I joined the military right out of High School because I didn't have any other options, I needed to make something of myself, to be someone. But standing here, in the middle of this pile of shit that used to be a city, I don't feel like anything but a lost kid.

It was his hand in mine that finally brought me back to reality. I'm not really sure how long I had just been staring off into space... looking at him, but seeing straight through him. Everything stopped, there was nothing, not even the sound of my own heartbeat. Complete and absolute silence. The entire world on mute.

I will never forget those beautiful blue eyes, though. So deep, so... perfect. Nothing else mattered, but this moment. I cupped his cheek with my other hand, no hesitation, do or die. It was perfection in a devastated world. His taste, the smell of his sweat, everything about Damon Baird was perfect.

I felt... safe. The word really had no place here in the middle of hell, but it was the right word. Damon made me feel safe, and that feeling was absolutely everything I needed.

Pulling away from our kiss, I committed everything about that moment, about him, to memory. I had no idea if I was going to see tomorrow, or even see an hour from now. But I wanted these moments, these little things, just in case I ever needed them.

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Fuck, thinking back on all that shit. So many mistakes were made. The right hand didn't know what the left hand was doing, the left hand was keeping secrets from the right hand, the whole thing was just one big clusterfuck after another. I think back on that shit and sometimes wonder if we could have ended the fucking war years ago. I mean, sure it wouldn't have stopped the Imulsion or Lambency, but it would have prevented a fuck of a lot of death. Shit, I get a headache just thinking about it.

Anyways, Damon and I got another six weeks together before the Halvo Bay shitstorm. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, six weeks isn't really a lot of time to fall in love. Well, fuck you! Six weeks is a hell of a long time when you're faced with possible death every five minutes!

Ha! Halvo Bay... Another joke of an op.

I'm just going to go on the record here and say Loomis was pretty much a Douchebag. I mean, I'll give credit where it's due, he personally recruited me into the Onyx Guard. I guess he saw something in me, fuck I don't know. It was one of those days I was in a particularly bad mood. You know, one of those days where throat punching a Kantus to death was the only thing that makes you feel better, kinda days? Yeah, guess he saw that. Anyways, dude personally recruited me, and during a lull in battle shipped me off for Onyx training. I never did see Baird again. Well, not until I damn near ran him over the other day. Still, I heard all about what happened between him and Loomis back in Halvo.

War hero or not, the guy was still a giant bag of dicks.

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 **North Beach, Azura Island.**

 **0117 Hours.**

Having since abandoned our bench for a walk on the beach, I couldn't even tell you how long we had been talking. Time ceased to exist for us... catching up on what seemed like a lifetime will do that.

"Dude, I was takin a shit. Heard all the warnings go off, and just assumed it was a drill. But when I heard the gunfire coming down the hall... I pinched off, motherfucked myself because I didn't have my Lancer on me, and climbed up into the duct work." I saw that smile I remembered, as he laughed at my story. "What, man? I'm fuckin serious over here!" _"And your eyes are just as beautiful as I remember."_ I thought.

"Shit, that's almost as bad as me coughing up Riftworm blood. Jesus, that's a fuckin story." he said, still laughing, but not to be outdone.

I couldn't help but laugh right along with him. Moments like these, they used to be hard to come by. But now, walking along the beach, talking and laughing like a couple of kids, it was like... we could be human again.

"So, what have you been working on?" I asked.

"Hoffman has me going though all the Professors work." he started. "I've got to tell ya though, that man was into some crazy shit. He handed me this disk before... well, you know. Shit, I haven't even made it through a quarter of what he was working on, and it's going to take weeks, even months, to try and decipher that much. Cloud seeding, new ways of growing food, new fuel sources, shit just goes on and on." I knew I had hit a good topic of conversation, Baird loved talking about technical shit. Especially with someone who could understand him. That's not to say I was of his level of genius, but I was smart enough to follow along, and actually grasp the concepts he was talking about.

Long out of sight of the hotel, we had been totally lost in our own little world, when I recognized where we were.

"Up that path, on that cliff there." I pointed. "That's where I hid out."

"Very uhh, homey looking." he said.

"Not really, I'd leave every few days for supplies, ammo, patrol." I went on. "It was pure luck, and maybe coupled with the fact that I am fast as fuck when I need to be, that the grubs never found me. But, hey... I killed a shitload of them."

"Six months by yourself?" he looked at me.

It was a question, but the way he asked it... It was more like a realization. Like he realized how fucked up things had actually been. In a way, it was something we had all been doing. Putting the shit we've seen, the shit we've been through, out of our minds. Then, something, anything really... even something small, and it all just comes flooding back.

"One of us... didn't make it here." he choked out. I could see the pain in his face, could hear it in his voice. "Dom. Dom was the one who didn't make it. He was with us since I joined Delta. Was Marcus' best friend... his brother. He gave his life, so the rest of us could get this far."

As I looked into his eyes, those... perfect blue eyes. It was just like that night seventeen years ago. Only this time, there was so much pain there, so much loss.

But now, it was my turn... I took his hand in mine. That same silence, the same feeling of nothing else existing. But it _was_ different, I was focused on nothing else but him. Not seeing through him into oblivion, but seeing inside of him, the man that he had become.

I rested my forehead against his, tracing slowly up his muscular arm with my free hand, the other... not daring to let go of his. I ran my fingers gingerly along his shoulder, then along the back of his neck. The short stubble of his fade cut, like electricity. This is where I needed to be, where we both needed to be.

It was the snapshots, the little moments in time I had stored away, that kept me going, fighting.

But, there was no longer a need for _"Once upon a time."_

"I never stopped loving you." I whispered.

Our eyes met again. Only now, his were searching, as if making sure this was real, that I was real, that this wasn't all just some dream, some fantasy that he would soon wake up from.

But it is real, this was all real. He asked me once _"When this is all over, if it's over, do you think we could make a life for ourselves?"_ It was one of those few moments that was completely out of character for him, ones that only I ever got to see, the real Baird. He had done such an amazing job of building up a wall, keeping everyone and everything out. But, he gave me an inch, and fuck if I didn't come crashing through that wall to take a mile. I will never know why he allowed it, maybe it was that very first night we spent together as teenagers. Maybe it was because I had been the only person in his life that really wanted to spend time with him. Whatever the reason, it brought us here, and I was okay with that.

It wasn't long after, that knowing Baird smile slowly emerged, as he hooked his thumbs under my tank.

I knew right where this was going, but I let him take the lead. I raised my arms, allowing him to remove my tank as he walked me backward towards the soft grass. Of course, neither of us saw the rock. But the result, me on my back, arms stretched out above my head, and him on top of me... There was absolutely no complaining on my end.

His lips were still as soft as I remember. There is something to be said about kissing another man. The raw power behind those kisses. The passion, the need, the lust... it was all amplified with a man.

When we broke for air, he slowly sat up, tracing the scar from palm to elbow on my left arm. The flames and skulls of my sleeve tattoo mostly hid it from view. But he could feel it, and there was an indiscernible look on his face as he did... "I'll tell you someday." I said, softly. That was all the reassurance he needed to continue his exploration.

His hands soon found my chest. The Crimson Omen on my left pectoral, and crossed Lancers on my right, clearly visible beneath my chest fur. Tracing further, he again paused at the _Warrior_ across my stomach.

"You've uhh... changed a bit over the years." he said, slyly.

"Not so much." I smirked. "Just added to the overall package." as I grabbed hold of his waist and gave him a small thrust.

He got the hint. Not as if my aching need pressing into his ass wasn't hint enough before.

He undid the clasp on my utility belt, then went for the button of my BDU pants. With that shit eating, lopsided, sexy as fuck grin of his, he slowly eased down my zipper. _"Fuck. This. It's my turn."_ And with the grace only a warrior could possess, I flipped him over.

Looking down at my lover, my Damon, the urge... the need... was too great. It had simply been too long. His musk and scent, the ocean air, a faint hint of his aftershave... it was all too much. I needed him, and looking into his eyes, he needed me.

No hesitation, no regrets.

As I pulled off his boots, he undid his belt and unfastened his button. In a motion so swift it surprised even me, his pants were off, and strewn haphazardly somewhere behind me. There was no time, or even desire, for the discarding of my pants and boots, or his shirt.

I lifted his legs up onto my shoulders. "I'll be gentile, I promise. Just relax." I said, as I applied a generous amounts of spit to my aching cock. And I was, I had no desire to hurt him. But I needed to be inside him, to feel him around me, to get this out of my fucking system before I exploded.

When I finally bottomed out inside of him, I paused, and gently rubbed his calves.

"I'm good" he whispered. I took my cue, and began to slowly ease back out of him.

It didn't take long to find our rhythm, and once there, I knew this wasn't going to be long. But that was okay. For the first time since I had met him, Damon and I had all the time in the world. There was no more worrying about tomorrow, there was just us, this moment, and every moment to come.

I held him close because I needed to. This is what I wanted more than the sex. The heat of Damon's body, the feel of his fingers laced between mine. This is what grounded me... made me feel safe.

I felt his breathing slow, creeping ever closer to the precipice of sleep. _"Sleep now, Damon. I am never letting go."_

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 **North Beach, Azura Island.**

 **0542 Hours.**

It was the sound of thunder off in the distance, and the heavy feeling in the air of an approaching storm that woke me.

"Damon..." I said, as I gave his shoulder a light squeeze.

No response. Sleeping like a civvy.

Though, as I gently eased my left arm from under him and sat up, he woke with a startled, choked cry.

Rolling onto his back, he raised an arm to rub the sleep from his still tired eyes. "Wha... What time is it?"

"No idea. Regardless, there is a storm coming... We need to get back."

His hair disheveled, shirt scrunched up to his chest, still naked from the waist down... Anyone else would have found this a rather compromising position, I just found it undeniably sexy!

While he was putting on his pants, I gathered up his boots, our belts, and slipped my shirt back on. Fastened up, he blushed slightly when I handed him his stuff. Looking down, I saw why.

"Yeah, I suppose it would help if I fastened up my own shit." I laughed.

We held hands most of the way back to the hotel, something we'd never done before, but I could easily get used to doing. Of course, just before we were in sight of our destination, things went right back to casual friendship. There were no _laws_ against what we had done, per-say. But there were rules, and considering how on edge things have been lately, even the punishments for fraternization would most likely be taken very seriously. And right now, neither of us wanted that hassle.

Slipping back into the hotel under the cover of predawn, we were able to avoid prying eyes.

Or, so we thought.


	6. Chapter 6

**Azura Hotel, Azura Island.**

 **0637 Hours.**

I had almost made it back to my room... almost. When I rounded the last corner, and there he was. Marcus Fenix.

I'd be lying if I said he didn't look like he was waiting for me.

"Wells." he said, in his usual flat nondescript tone.

"Fenix." I replied, trying to sound as equally flat.

Until this point, my only real interaction with the guy was the other day, when I basically made him my errand boy. Though, to my defense, he handed the situation over to me. (All is fair, right?)

"How do you know Baird?" he asked. _"Oh jesus, what do I have a fuckin sign on my forehead 'Please ruin my good mood."_ I thought.

Well, this could go one of two ways, I could be a prick, or not be a prick. _"Play nice, Erik."_

I really had no intention of outing Baird. Myself? That's a different story. But I had no idea if his friends knew of his preference. Not that there is anything wrong with being gay, there were plenty of gays all over Sera. Well, there used to be. Regardless, it's not my place to reveal personal information about anyone. _"Proceed with caution."_

"We were rooks together, a long ass time ago." I said, turning on my death stare hoping it would do something... anything, to get me out of this awkwardness ASAP!

"Yeah?" _"Christ, what a conversationalist."_

"Yeah. I didn't know a single fucking person on this damned island until I ran into him. It was nice to just have someone you know to talk to, okay?"

"Hmmpf." A grunt. I get a grunt.

" _Alright, this was fun, but I've got more important things to do... like clean my toilet."_

Assuming he was at least sated with my answers, I side stepped around him and made my down the hall to my quarters. _"Don't look back... don't look back... eh, fuck it."_ As I turned the knob and opened the door, I looked back down the hall.

Gone.

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I tried to fall back asleep, I really did, but my mind wasn't having any of that. Everything that happened last night, the fact that I could still smell Damon, and the whatever the fuck _that_ was with Marcus Fenix...

Nope, no way in hell my brain was going to shut off now.

My problem is, I over-think. I mean, I know I over-think, it's quite possibly one of my worst traits, and I know damn well it's the root of my anxiety issues. The sick thing is, it has never failed me. It's one of the reasons I am so fucking good at what I do. I am forever stuck in my head, and even in the middle of a firefight, being mentally fifty steps ahead of your enemy gives a phenomenal edge. So, I've never bothered to quell constant over-thinking. I've simply embraced it.

I was once asked by a fellow Onyx if I was psychic. I knew exactly where our enemy was going, and exactly what they were going to do once they got there. I never did answer him. But, it wasn't hard to figure out, you just have to continually ask yourself what you would do if you were in the position of your enemy.

It's any wonder I get fucking headaches?

Well, fuck it. Might as well go get breakfast.

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 **Dining Hall, Azura Hotel, Azura Island.**

 **0719 Hours.**

I am pretty sure I look like a six foot four zombie, standing here in line to get breakfast. There are only a few other Gears around this early on a weekend morning, and today it is probably for the best. I was running on only my Baird induced power nap, and there was too much on my mind to sleep, so my mood is somewhere between angry bear and Lambent Berserker. Maybe once I get some breakfast in me. _"Eggs, bacon... Holy shit... Praise be to the Allfathers, COFFEE! Sweet, go juice!"_

Maybe this morning wont be so bad after all.

I made my way out of the chow line and found myself a relatively secluded table, and god dammit I wasn't even seated yet, when some overly excitable female Gear plops her ass down right across from me.

"You're Specialist Erik Wells, mate?" her thick Kashkuri accent not really giving me _any_ indication if that was a question or a statement.

"That's me." I half spoke, half sighed.

"Private Samantha Byrne. But you can just call me Sam." she smiled. _"Bitch, how the fuck can you be so perky at the asscrack of stupid?"_

"Cool." I grunted. _"Well, I'm guessing you have a reason to interrupt my breakfast of solitude, there, Sam."_

"I uhh, I heard that you were going to be giving interviews to potential Gears for joining the Onyx Guard." I lifted my eyes from my food to her. _"Bingo! Didn't take long for that piece of news to make its rounds."_

I took a few moments and just stared at her, hoping maybe she would just go away.

She did look rather uncomfortable, but was unwavering in her request. So, she had spirit, I had to give her that much. God knows, she sure as shit wasn't any good at taking hints.

Figuring I had a chance to kill two birds with one stone. _"Hmm, I can get rid of her and have some entertainment with breakfast..."_ I did a quick scan around the room, and found my mark. Some random dude, a few tables to my left, with one foot propped up on chair.

He was just reading a letter, probably from his wife, or girlfriend... maybe even a kid if he were so lucky, or just a buddy back at Anvil Gate. Of course, none of that really mattered, he was my chosen one. The one poor sap on a weekend morning with the unfortunate luck to be in the same room as me and incessant woman. _"Sorry dude, you're fucked!"_

Yep, completely average everyday Gear, doing absolutely nothing of importance, minding his own business, and at the moment as harmless as a kitten. Absolutely perfect!

"You see that dude over there?" I jerked my head to the left.

"Yeah." she replied, nodding to Mr. Innocent.

"Good... Kill him." I stated flatly.

I knew without a doubt that not only would she not kill him, but that she couldn't even if she wanted to, she was completely unarmed at the moment. _"Hey, I may be half asleep over here, but fuck you if you think I don't once-over everyone who comes within three feet of me."_

"Wait, WHAT?!" she damn near yelled. "Why? No... NO! What the hell is wrong with you? What did he do? God, no... No! Just... NO!" _"And there's the barrage of six million stammered questions... Denial of duty... Confusion... Yep, just like clockwork."_

"What did he do? Nothing. What is wrong with me? Nothing. Why? Because I gave you an order. Now... kill him, or get the fuck away from me." I replied.

God, the look on her face... priceless. _"Fuck, this morning may not be so bad after all."_

"Fuck you!" she spat, spinning around up out of her chair and stomping off. _"Yep, if I were straight I'd totally bang that!"_

"Hey, Sam?" I called after her. "That was your interview!"

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Sure I just took a huge risk doing that, but I knew she wouldn't have killed the guy. Like I said, she was unarmed. Couple that with her demeanor, she didn't have it in her. There was no doubt in my mind that she had probably killed thousands of grubs. But to take a human life... If some crazy, or upset person threatens the life of the Chairman, you shoot to kill. Citizen, Stranded, Gear, or otherwise. It's your job.

People really think this shit is easy. Hey, I'm a Gear too! I can shoot shit and kill stuff, so I can be an Onyx Guard!

No, skippy, you can't.

They really have absolutely no clue what it takes. On top of the extended and arduous training involved, there is also the fact that you have to be basically soulless. Every single one of us has seen horrible shit. Hell, fighting the fucking grubs, it was damn near impossible _not_ to have seen it. But, at the end of the day, no matter how bad it was, everyone still had a little bit of themselves left. It is why we kept fighting for so long.

For me to sit here and say that I am completely without a soul... well that really isn't fair.

I just... When need be, I put it away in a dark corner where it can't get hurt.

It's hard to describe really. It's like... when I am in battle, or on a special op, I am outside of myself. Controlling my movements and actions from some room somewhere. And when it's all over, I just set the controls down and go home. I've known a few other guys who can do what I do... But, they're all dead now, so I guess it doesn't matter.

Oh yeah, that's also how I met Sam. Probably not the best first impression, but hey, don't poke a bear when he's eating and all that shit, right?

So, I've got a great start to the weekend going here.

After breakfast, I went back up to my room. I was even slightly more awake now than when I left it. Hell, even Beckwith was finally up, the lazy fuck. I shouldn't give the guy too much shit though, he really is a good dude. Hell, if I were part of the regular Gears, the son of a bitch would probably outrank me.

Hey, at least the guy talks. That is one thing he is actually damn good at. The guy's got more stories than Prescott's got liver pills!

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Before saying our goodbyes last night, Damon said I should stop by his room later.

I am still... I don't know... In shock? Maybe that was a bad choice of words, but I really can't think of anything else to describe what I'm thinking right now. So, we will just roll with that.

Yeah, it's weird as fuck though. Almost like the last seventeen years never even happened. I mean, they did! Fuck, if they didn't! But, with us... We just picked up right where we left off. There was no hesitation, no questions, no regrets. Just a little bit of making up for lost time.

However, there are no doubts in my mind that this is right. That this is where we both need to be, where we both _want_ to be. I have no idea what the future is going to hold for us as a society, and it gives me a fucking headache thinking about it. We are stupid and reckless and damn good at it.

But where ever the hell this new road is going... At least now... Now I have someone to travel it with.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Azura Tower, Azura Island.**

 **Damon Baird's Quarters, 1531 Hours.**

"So, are you okay with me?" I asked him.

"Yeah, of course." he didn't bother to look up from the terminal he was working on.

"No, I mean... Me, you know... Being an Onyx?" that got a pause. Hooking his soldering iron back into its holster, he turned. I could see the from the expression on his face I had hit a sore spot. "It's just, I heard what they did to you. I just wanted to make sure that... Fuck.." I sighed. "I shouldn't have asked."

Coming over to the couch, he let out a small huff as he sat next to me. "It's okay, Erik. Really." he said. As he put his hand on my thigh. "Every one of those bastards is long dead. And... I know what it's like to follow orders you don't agree with."

A small smile spread across that beautiful face. It wasn't forced, but it wasn't a happy smile either.

"Marcus is the one you may have to worry about." he went on. "He has a pretty deep hatred for the Onyx. The shit they did to me is nothing compared to what he endured."

" _Fuck!"_

"Yeah... about that." I said, as I rubbed the back of my neck. "He came to see me this morning."

"What? Why?" he looked like a deer in headlights.

"He uhh... he asked me how I knew you." I said, quietly.

"Fuck." he sighed.

" _Fuck."_ my thoughts exactly.

"Well, what did you tell him?" he asked.

"The truth. Well... some of it anyways. I just said that you and I were rooks together, back before Halvo, and we were catching up."

"And did he buy it?"

Thinking back to this morning... The completely indiscernible look on his face... The typical Fenix grunt. Well... _Did_ he buy it?

"Not a chance." I said, with a snort.

Damon just sighed. I couldn't blame the guy, but it's not like I went out of my way to tell Fenix anything, the dude sought me out. He came to me looking for an answer to a question he really had no right to ask. I can understand _why_ he asked it, his squad, his friends, that was all he had left. If I were in his shoes... well, truthfully, with Damon, I am in his shoes.

"He is just trying to protect you, Damon." putting my hand on his shoulder. "You know damn well I would do the same thing. Hell, you would too!"

He knew I was right. Not that it made this any less awkward. Of all the things we talked about last night, this was one subject we never even came close to.

"They don't know about you, do they?" I asked.

"Sam does." he chuckled. "That's a good story, remind me to tell you _that_ one someday." his mood lightening a bit.

He stood up and walked back towards the terminal he was working on. "I'll talk to Marcus. Fuck, I knew I would probably have to do this someday. Just... never prepared for it, ya know?"

"I'm not trying to push you, Damon."

"No, god no. You're not pushing!" he turned to me. "Don't... I just think better when I am working."

"Do you want me to leave you to it then?"

"No..." he dragged out. "I want your ass right there on that couch. I... like being near you." he said, sheepishly. It was another one of those _Baird_ moments only I ever got to see.

"Okay then. Get back to work, motherfucker!" I chuckled, as I got the finger and that big shit eating grin in return.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Azura Tower, Azura Island.**

 **Damon Baird's Quarters, 1917 Hours.**

I'm not sure when I feel asleep. I remember watching him work, chatting, just the enjoyment of being in his gravity. Childish as that may sound, it all came back around to feeling safe.

It was the knocking at his door that woke me. But, I was content where I was... The man I love only a few feet away. Content to lazily press down on my internal snooze button.

Maybe it was that same feeling of contentedness, or maybe just a lapse in judgment. I doubt either of us will ever know what caused him to throw the door wide open. But he did.

I was still enjoying the fog of sleep when I heard the first voice. It was a woman, and quite pleasant really. _"Hey Baird! I've almost got the internal phone system working, but I need your help."_

Very pleasant, indeed.

Then I heard... _Him._ "What the _FUCK_ is he doing here?" And I shot up like a fucking rocket!

There stood one confused Anya Stroud, and one pissed off Marcus Fenix!

"I uhh... Shit. Umm..." Damon was stammering, panic written all over his face.

"You know..." I interrupted, rubbing my hands on my pants. "I should probably get going."

"What? No, Erik..." he looked at me.

"Erik? You're on a first name basis with this prick?" Marcus was still staring directly at me, regardless of who that question was for.

To say the situation was tense, would be the understatement of a lifetime. Rarely am I ever uncomfortable, but this was absolutely one of those times.

And poor Anya... Had she showed up alone, I doubt she'd have given me a second thought. Just a fellow solder crashed on a couch. But, given the fact that Marcus clearly had something to say about my presence, I don't think she knew whether to scratch her watch or wind her butt.

"Uhh, you guys should probably sit down for this." I could hear the hitch in his voice. I knew this wasn't going to be an easy conversation, but I made a promise.

"Yeah, we probably should." said Marcus, shoulder checking me as he made his way to the couch I had just vacated.

There was an uneasy calm in the room as they listened. Damon went on, in his usual fashion, divulging his very personal secret to his closest friends. Telling the story of how we met, how we fell in love.

It slowly became clear the Anya was actually rather happy for him. Marcus however... His gaze never left mine.

It was a true old fashioned stare-down.

Oh he was listening to every word that Damon said, and there was not even the slightest hint that any of it bothered him. His problem was with me. _That_ was very clear.

When Damon had finally finished, everyone was just silent. It was as if years of tension had just melted away from him, like he could finally breathe.

"You have no idea who he is, do you?" Marcus finally spoke.

Damon just looked confused... but I knew right where this was going. This was the part where my past finally came rushing up out of the shadows to cold cock me in the face. This was where every fucked up thing I had to do for the COG was going to be laid out, just like a holiday spread.

"I figured it out on the roof." Marcus looked at me. "You were too calm... Then I saw your scar."

"What... what the hell's he talking about?" Damon looked at me.

"He's the fucking _Eliminator_ , Baird." I had always hated that nickname.

"Every person who's ever disagreed with Prescott, or got in the way of his plans... Met your _boyfriend_ here. Right before they died." Marcus went on, waving an arm in my direction.

I was expecting the look on Damon's face to turn to one of disappointment, or anger, or something, anything other than what it did.

But it didn't. It was sorrow. He felt... sorry for me.

"He's telling you the truth." I sighed. In all actuality, I wanted to cry.

"We should go." Anya said, standing up. "Come on, Marcus."

"Yeah." he grunted.

My eyes never left Damon, but I could feel the daggers from Fenix as he passed.

Anya placed her hand on Damon's arm before she left. "I'm glad you told us, Baird. Your secret is safe."

Hearing the door close behind them reminded me of the sound of gunfire. I don't know why, it really wasn't that loud. Maybe it was just my brains way of telling me _"Yep, you're fucked."_

"Well, I guess it's time to tell you about my scar." I said, looking down at my boots.

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 **A/N So, the chapters are getting longer, and action is picking up. Shit is going to start hitting the fan here soon! Again, I apologize if my writing isn't the best, and I am totally open to suggestions on how to make it better, or even reviews of what you think of the story so far. Anyways, chapters 7 and 8 should be done and posted before the end of the coming weekend. Thank you so much for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Azura Tower, Azura Island.**

 **Damon Baird's Quarters, 1954 Hours.**

There was no way this was going to be and easy conversation. Honestly, I had never expected it to be, but I _had_ expected to have more time to prepare for it. Now, I've been thrust into it without a choice.

"Damon..." I started, sitting back on the couch. "I had hoped to tell you this on my own terms... I..."

The words I knew I had to say were like acid on my tongue. They were going to burn like hell, but I had to get them out.

"You don't have to do this..." he whispered. I looked up. I could see the pain on his face, and his eyes betrayed his words, I knew he wanted to know... He deserved to know.

There wasn't going to be an easy or even tactful way to say any of this.

"Marcus told you the truth, I was Prescott's personal assassin. All through the war, anyone who disagreed with his decisions to the point of causing chaos... I was sent to kill them. High ranking deserters, leaders of the biggest Stranded groups... I killed seventy-nine people over the last thirteen years. There were others, but I was the most... Efficient. It's also how I got the nickname _Eliminator_."

This is what makes surviving a war so difficult. When it's over, you have to deal with the consequences of your actions.

I mean, we've all done things that we aren't proud of. I know for a fact that Anya was in the room when the button that destroyed three-quarters of Sera was pushed... I was guarding the door.

I looked up at Damon, trying to gauge some type of reaction. He was pissed.

Exactly what I was afraid of.

"I never heard any of this." He finally said. "But, I wouldn't put it past Prescott to authorize shit like that, the man was an asshole. But you were following orders..."

"There's more." I interrupted, looking down at the floor. "Not everyone who was here at Azura came willingly. Some... had to be brought here by force. That's how I got my scar. I had snuck into his house, everything was going according to protocol, but... somehow he knew I was behind him. When I reached around to put him in a choke hold, he sliced my arm with a letter opener. He tried coming after me, but like I said, I can be fast when I need to be."

"The op was a failure, and Prescott was pissed. Said he would handle it himself. But... It was Professor Fenix. I mean, I didn't even know who he was at the time. It wasn't until I got here that I finally learned his name. He was the target, Damon. I guess... I don't know... He must have told Marcus at some point what happened, or how it happened, or something. Marcus figured it out. Fuck, I mean how many guys have a scar on the inside of their arm from palm to elbow? That's why he's so pissed! And... I don't blame him."

"I never wanted this, Damon. I wanted to kick grub ass and save humanity! Instead, I found myself killing the very people I was supposed to be protecting. You were right... I'm not the same man I was seventeen years ago."

They say, confessing ones sins brings peace. _"Bullshit!"_ I thought. There is no peace in this, just misery.

"I should go." I said, standing up.

"Wait... Erik, you don't... Please... don't go."

I felt his hand on my arm, and that one simple touch was all it took for me to break down and cry. _"Yeah, some badass you are!"_

He sat me back down on the couch, pulling me against him and resting my head in his lap, content to let me work through my demons in whatever way necessary.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Ephyra, Tyrus.**

 **4 Years, After Emergence.**

"Specialist Wells, Chairman Prescott would like to see you." came from from my Tac/Com.

Of course, being at the beck and call of the Chairman, these types of calls are all too familiar. But, we are always called as teams, never once have I been called personally... Until today.

"On it." I replied, grabbing my helmet off my desk. _"Don't piss yourself, man! You've been in situations a lot more nerve wracking than this one."_

It's surreal in a way, walking through the halls of the House of Sovereigns. As an Onyx, _everyone_ breaks stride and moves from your intended path, even politicians. But, the building itself, knowing how much important work had been done here... It was profoundly intimidating to someone like me. It makes for a strange combination of emotions.

Reaching the Chairman's office, I gave a nod to my fellow Onyx guarding the door. I couldn't see their faces, but by virtue of scheduling, I knew who they were. Returning the gesture of solidarity, they opened the doors, as the Chairman had been expecting me.

"Ah! Specialist Wells, come in! Come in!." The Chairman was all smiles as he rose from behind his desk.

As I walked into his office, I took note of the well dressed but stoic woman standing off to left as the doors behind me were closed.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Erik. May I call you Erik?"

"Yes, Sir. And, you're welcome, Sir."

"Oh, come now, Erik. Everything that happens in this office is off the record. Please, call me Richard."

The sheer amount of sleaze oozing from this man was enough to fill every storm drain in Ephyra, but this is the man that held my future in his hands, so I opted to play along.

"Richard." I said, extending my hand.

I don't think he expected that, but took very well to my gesture and shook my hand with a wide grin.

"Now, down to business." he went on. "Erik, it has been brought to my attention that you are quite the capable soldier. Exemplary in your duties. Training scores off the charts. And above all, loyal to your fellow man."

" _Man, this windbag could sell a pair of running shoes to a quadriplegic."_

"I asked you here, Erik, because I feel that it is time we give you the opportunity to put your title of Specialist, and skill-set to good use."

"This is Agent Louise Settile, of COG Intelligence Agency." he gestured to the dark haired woman in the room with us. "I've brought her in to conduct a brief interview with you... To see if you have what it takes to be part of a truly elite group of the Onyx Guard. Unfortunately, due to a scheduling conflict, I must run off to another appointment. So, she will be taking over this meeting from here. Good luck to you, Erik!"

"Specialist Wells." She started. "We at the COG Intelligence have been watching you, among others, very closely over the past year, and we feel it is time for you to further your career with the COG. Please, come with me." she said, opening a secondary door from the Chairman's office. _"Well, this bitch sure is all business. Let's try not to piss her off, okay?"_

As we stepped into a long, very bland, back hallway, she began again.

"Fighting this war against the Locust has not been easy. And it has taken quite a toll on everyone's resources, including the Agencies. We have been looking for talented members of the Onyx, the best of the best, to fill rolls that were once handled by our agents. You, will be one of those men."

She stopped outside of a very plain looking gray door, and turned to me.

"I admire you, Erik. Your skill in battle is far beyond those of your peers. You are a phenomenal marksman. A distinction to the Onyx Guard. But above all else... You are loyal to the COG, following orders without question or hesitation." There was an air of sincerity in her voice, but her face was cold... manipulative.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Erik, our job is not always easy. We ensure the survival of the maximum number of COG citizens, by any means necessary."

Gesturing with her right hand, "The man behind this door is a traitor... To the COG, and to humanity. Kill him."

I suppose I should have seen something like this coming. Being buttered up for a nice roasting in the oven. Prepped for my journey down the path to hell.

But, this is my job. Like it or not, I was given an order, and I will follow that order. _"Or, there is a damn good chance you are going to end up dead, fuckwad!"_

"Yes, ma'am."

Opening the door to that small interrogation room, time simply stopped. The man was sitting in small steel chair, handcuffed to the table in front of him. I'd have guessed him to be no more than thirty-five, well groomed and clean cut, just your average every Joe Citizen.

As I pulled out the Boltok I had stolen from a dead Locust, I could see his mouth begin to move. The panic spreading across his face, tears welling up in his eyes. I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was pleading for his life, but I couldn't hear him.

I placed the gun to his head, and pulled the trigger. There was no sound, no air, nothing. I had completely left my body, controlling my actions from somewhere else. I simply watched as his body fell lifeless to the floor.

I will never know his name, his story, or what treasonous act he performed. I was simply there to eliminate him.

As my senses returned, I caught the faint smell of aftershave mixing in with the smell of burnt gun powder.

Exiting the small room, I took my place in front of Agent Settile.

"Will there be anything else, ma'am?" I said, coldly.

She just smiled. My interview was over.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Azura Tower, Azura Island.**

 **Damon Baird's Quarters, 2146 Hours.**

My breath finally slowed, and I had long since cried myself out, but I was content in Damon's lap.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, softly.

I felt safe, but I wasn't okay... I'd probably never be okay.

Thinking about it now, I began understand why I hadn't crashed like this before.

I've never forgotten the faces of the people I've killed. I may not have known all of their names, but their faces have always been with me. Though, I never had to talk about it... admit to anyone what I had done. It was always my _'other life'_... my secret world. I had kept everything close to my vest, and never spoke of it. Saying the words out loud was admitting to myself, I actually was _that guy_.

"No..." I choked. "Are you?"

There was no more playing the _'good soldier'_ , then sneaking off under the cover of darkness. The door to my closet had been blown off its hinges, and the skeletons were roaming the halls.

"No."

Nor did I expect him to be.

"I'm sorry, Damon." I said, sitting up. "I never..."

"Don't apologize, Erik. I am completely aware of the horrible shit Prescott was involved in."

"That still doesn't change what I did, or who I am." I looked at him. "I destroyed peoples lives... I am no better than the fucking grubs."

And that's the sad truth, I _was_ no better than the grubs. I was a fucking monster, and now everyone knew it.


	8. Chapter 8

Fuck!

This shit is exactly the reason why dudes are killing themselves!

Having to face every god awful thing you've seen, or done... It fucking sucks!

I ended up just staying with Damon last night. It was a comfort thing, for both of us I think. He did say he would try and talk to Marcus though... Try and explain my side of the story. Hopefully that will go well, but I won't be holding my breath.

The last thing I need right now is that big motherfucker on my shit.

Anya on the other hand. I get the feeling she knows all too well what it's like to be in my boots. Like I said, she was in the room when they pushed the button. You know, when the _powers-that-be_ fried half the fucking world? Yeah... She was there.

I am a motherfucking monster! No two ways about it.

Of course, my brain isn't helping me one god damned bit with this situation. I stopped once on my walk back this morning to puke... After the _"What If they had asked you to kill Damon?"_ thought ran through my head. Fuck! It makes me nauseous again just writing that. But, that thought had every right to be there. I had no fucking control over who or when... Just orders I had to follow.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I told myself the other day, the next time I wrote in here that I should probably start dating this thing.

But... I can't.

Shit is so fucked up right now, we don't even know what day it really is. I mean, as hard as that is to believe... It's the truth. Fuck, I don't even remember the last time I wrote down a date at all.

The last dates I _do_ remember... Operation Hollow Storm, the 35th of Harvest through the 2nd of Frost. After that... Fuck, everyone lost track of everything.

Just one more thing we have to start over on, I guess.

Anyways, at least we are getting weekends. Not to say they are actually happening _on_ weekends. But at this point, I don't think anyone gives a fuck. They're just enjoying the chance to relax without the constant fear of being shot at.

But hey, Hoffman made it damn clear, there was a phenomenal amount of work to do, but we had earned weekends.

And he wasn't joking about the amount of work. During the work week, it's 26/8 balls to the wall! I wouldn't be surprised if within another two months, this place is back to they way it was. Then, on top of that, there are already plans in the works for expansion... An entirely new city right here on Azura!

Back on the mainland though... That shit is a different story. There's easily two lifetimes worth of work to be done there.

It's overwhelming when you think about it. So, I try my best not to. I concentrate on the here and now... Fixing my own fucking problems, and whatever mindless task I am assigned to work on.

Of course, spending time with Damon has been helping a lot. Not that we really do much other than talk a bit before passing out for the night, but the two nights this week I've spent with him have been the best sleep I've had in years.

Being there in his bed, pressed against him, the warmth of his body... It was all I needed to completely drain away the days stress and bullshit. Definitely right where I was meant to be.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Azura Hotel, Azura Island.**

 **Dining Hall, 1309 Hours.**

" _Holy shit, foooooood."_ I thought to myself, making my way to the chow line.

There was nothing easy about this morning's work on the Maelstrom generator. We had it to the point now where it was time to connect the drive-shafts from the motor crank-shafts to the generator itself. Fucking things were god damn heavy... And awkward. It involved 6 of us, on our backs, bench-pressing the fucking thing into place, while two other Gears connected it at either end.

I was dirty, tired, and fucking hungry. _"Engage bear mode!"_

I grabbed my chow, and found myself a seat off in a corner. I preferred it that way really. I am not big on conversation while eating.

But, it would seem others didn't share my sentiment. As only half way through my burger, I spotted Anya coming my way.

"Hey, Wells." she said as she walked up. He voice was always so pleasant and calm.

"Anya.."

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Sighing. "I ain't going to stop ya."

I looked up at her, she didn't seem put off by my response, and she took a seat across from me, I assume she realized I wasn't intending to be hostile towards her.

"Sorry." I said. "I am just beat to hell from this morning. Fucking Maelstrom generator... You guys did one hell of a number on it!" I half lauged.

"Yeah... I guess we did, didn't we."

"And you don't have to apologize, Erik. Actually, I wanted to apologize to you."

"For?" I cocked my head a bit.

"For the other night... At Baird's. The way Marcus acted. He shouldn't have attacked you the way he did. Not in front of Baird."

"It's okay, Anya. I deserved it... And Damon deserved to know. Plus... Marcus was right I am..." she cut me off.

"Stop. Erik... I know where you are going with this. I have access to everything that Baird has, all of the Professors data, and his computer terminals. Erik, he recorded everything. Just in case something happened to him before we got there. He recorded every conversation the two of you had."

"I didn't... Fuck." I sighed.

"I played some of them for Marcus, along with some other things he needed to hear. He is still really hurting, and none of this is easy for him. But, he isn't trying to hurt you and Baird."

"I know..." I said. I could see where Marcus was coming from. The man got a royal fucking, turned around without a grudge to save the world, and as thanks... He got a dead best friend _and_ dad.

"Is Baird okay?" she asked, softly.

Was he okay? Yeah, surprisingly, he was. He took that whole mess a fuck of a lot better than I did.

"Yeah, he's fine." I smiled.

"You know, Erik. I am really happy for the both of you. I haven't seen Baird as happy as he is now in a long time. He is almost tolerable!" she laughed. I smiled to myself, knowing that I made him as happy as he does me.

"Anyways, I will let you finish eating. I just wanted to let you know about Marcus, let you know he doesn't hate or distrust you... Just... Give him some time, okay?"

"Alright. And... Thanks, Anya."

As she stood however, I heard her Tac/Com go off. "Yeah, I'm here Baird, over."

My ears perked right up at that.

"Yeah... Okay... Oh, shit..." she went on, before a very long uneasy pause.

Eventually, she turned and looked at me. "Umm, yeah actually, he's right here. I came to talk to him. Okay... Anya, out."

"Sorry to cut your lunch short, Erik. Baird needs us."

" _Fuck!"_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Azura Tower, Azura Island.**

 **Damon Baird's Quarters. 1351 Hours.**

Walking into Damon's quarters was... Well, let's face it... Downright uncomfortable for me.

Obviously, Anya had no problems with me. But, walking through the door, I was greeted with a surprised, and then _"I will kill you."_ look from Sam. I am sure she was just thrilled to see me, considering I had thoroughly pissed her off. And Marcus, who still looked like he wanted to ram his Lancer up my ass. I recognized Clay Carmine, and Augustus Cole as well, though my interactions with both had been limited. Hopefully I hadn't pissed either of them off at any point.

"About time you two showed up!" Damon said, to break the ice. He shot a grin my way, though.

"So... Uhh... Here's the deal." he started. "It seems that Prescott had the Professor working on quite a bit of freaky shit. The man was definitely taking the whole _"Crazy Tyrant"_ thing to the extreme. Oh... No offense Marcus." he added, rubbing the back of his neck.

Of course, Marcus' only response was his usual grunt. And I could tell by the look on Anya's face, she had been working on this with Damon.

"So, how bad is it, baby?" I got the feeling Cole knew what to expect. It seems they all did. And, given the state of my relationship with Prescott, I probably should have as well.

"Well... The first _big_ problem is the Imulsion Countermeasure wasn't completely refined when it went off. That's why the Professor and most of the Locust died. There were quite a..."

"Wait, what? Most?" Sam had cut him off.

"Uhh, yeah. I _was_ getting to that, Sam. Look, do you want a coloring book or something?"

I would be lying if I said I didn't chuckle at that. Of course, that chuckle elicited a rather evil look from Sam. But it was worth it.

"Right, so moving along. _Most_ of the Locust died."

"If I am understanding all of his work correctly, the way the Countermeasure was _supposed_ to work... Uhh, in laymen terms, it was supposed to put the whole planet through one giant Lightmass process. That's why everything kept running, after it went off. Refined Lightmass was already dead."

"What's that have to do with the Locust?" Carmine asked.

"I'm getting to that. Marcus, remember when you and Dom set off the Lightmass Bomb at Timgad?"

"Yeah"

"Well, the Professor theorized that any Locust, or Humans, within the blast radius, but not close enough to get dead, would have been effected by the Lightmass Process the bomb produced. Basically, killing any lambent cells in their body, and rendering them immune to Imulsion."

"So, we still ain't killed all the grubs? Ain't that some shit!" Said Cole.

"Oh it gets better... Aaaaand then worse."

"The Professor only had enough time to refine the Countermeasure to the point the only things that wouldn't be effected were Humans, about three-quarters of the plant species, and half the animals on Sera. Everything else either died, or had its genetic sequence disrupted."

"Yeeeah... Now you lost me again, Baird." Carmine said.

"Fuck." Damon started pacing as he continued. "Look, the way Imulsion worked, it bonded itself to other living things at a cellular level. The Countermeasure was supposed to kill _only_ Imulsion cells."

"In the living organisms the Professor had the chance to get to, it did just that. The organisms that he didn't get to, like the Locust, either died or... And this is only if I am understanding his research correctly... When the Imulsion cells were killed any cells they were attached to were killed as well."

We all just stared at him. Fuck, even I was confused now, and I am a relatively intelligent guy.

"Their genetics were interrupted." Anya chimed in. "Anything still alive, not completely written into the Countermeasure, will begin to mutate in subsequent generations."

"So, basically we're still fucked?" I asked.

"Who else knows about this, Baird?" came from Marcus.

"Just us and Hoffman."

"Why only us?" Sam asked, clearly irritated.

Anya looked over at her, "Because, the Colonel doesn't want anything distracting the work going on here. But, he is flying back to Anvil Gate tonight to bring Bernie up to speed, and get her best Gears on board."

"Also, we are going with him... We leave at 1830."

The air had just been sucked out of the room. That high we had all been running on over the last few months, gone. The realization that, even after seventeen years of wading through a river of shit, we still weren't out of water yet.

"Well, I guess we better go get our shit together. Come on, Carmine." Sam said, gathering up Clay.

"Yeah, I'm out too. Meet y'all at the Ravens." Cole gave a friendly wave following Sam and Clay out the door. It amazes me how that man can stay so positive.

That left just Marcus, Anya, Damon, and myself.

"Fuck me." I groaned. "This shit's never going to end, is it?"

"Actually... There's still more." Damon said softly.

"Baird! What the fuck!" Marcus shouted.

"Hey... Don't shoot the messenger!"

"So, how much worse could this get?" I asked, flopping down on the couch next to Marcus.

"Well, there is obviously no way to tell how the plants and animals that he didn't get to will mutate. Then there is the thing with the weather. I haven't had much of a chance to get into it yet, but from his notes, we are going to start seeing some weird weather phenomena."

"Do you know all of this for sure, Baird? My father had a lot of _theories_ over the years."

I could see the frustration on Damon's face. I knew he didn't like to be questioned, especially when it came to his intelligence. But, I guess he's just become used to being second guessed by his Sergeant.

"From the data... Yeah, I'm sure."

"Marcus, this is what Baird and I have been working on for the last three weeks." Anya said. "We aren't wrong about it, we just can't predict how bad it may get. We also have no idea where the Locust that _are_ still alive have been hiding."

"Damon... Can't you guys just finish the Professors work? You know, just set the Countermeasure off again?" I asked, looking up at him.

"No. I wish it were that easy, though. The way the Countermeasure worked, everything had to be programmed in ahead of time. Once it was set off, the damage was done. The whole thing operated on the premise of killing of the Imulsion, there is no way to go back and reinsert the missing cells it destroyed."

"We need to find and kill the rest of the grubs first. Then Anya and I can try and piece together whats left the Professors work, try and minimize the damage done, and use his other projects to counteract the effects."

"Come on, Marcus." Anya said. "We need to get our stuff together."

"I'll be there in a minute." He replied, standing up. "Hey, Baird... You mind giving us the room?"

"Yeah, uhh... Sure, I'll just go take a shower or something."

Marcus turned and looked at me. Normally, I am damn good at reading people, but with this man... His face was like stone, hardened from years of battling demons inside and out.

After what seemed an eternity, he finally spoke. "Thanks for helping my father." Then extended his hand.

I stood and grabbed his hand, showing him I was firmly on his side. "You're welcome. He was a good man, and you should be proud. Because I know damn well he was proud of you."

As I made that last statement, his grasp became just a bit firmer before letting go.

"Oh, and if you hurt Baird... I'll kill you." he added, with a faint hint of a smile, before turning and leaving.

" _No worries there my man, no worries at all."_ I smiled to myself.


End file.
